Kanan's Last Gift
by Moira Starsong
Summary: Hera cries the first time she holds her son, because he has Kanan's eyes. Vibrant green, with just a touch of turquoise. The baby gurgles, looking up at her, those eyes sparkling, eyes she hadn't seen for so long, even while Kanan was still alive. One-Shot.


**Author's Notes:** I still have so many feels about this show that need to be worked out. Also I almost _**never**_ write in present tense, but it felt right for this one shot, because I thought it make Hera's grief feel more immediate, like it was actually happening to the reader (its certainly happening to _me_ , but anyway!) so I'm sorry if I screwed up my tenses anywhere in this, its a somewhat new format for me.

~0~0~0~

Hera cries the first time she holds her son, because he has Kanan's eyes. Vibrant green, with just a touch of turquoise. The baby gurgles, looking up at her, those eyes sparkling, eyes she hadn't seen for so long, even while Kanan was still alive. She had gotten used to looking into the milky-white of his irises after he had been blinded, just thanking the Force and all the stars that both he and Ezra had both made it back from Malachor. Hera hadn't realized how much she had missed Kanan's eyes, until their child is in her arms looking up at her, with his dead father's eyes. Kanan's last gift.

Hera had not allowed herself to cry for the entire pregnancy. That first morning, after Kanan had …. She had cried when she found his mask and the ponytail he had cut off just before coming to rescue her. Hera had only allowed Chopper to see her cry. She needed to be strong for the others. But she had known the astromech longer than any of the other members of her crew, had rescued him back on Ryloth during the Clone Wars. His unusually quiet presence had been comforting. But that was the only time. There was work to be done, a war to be fought, and Hera would be damned if she let her 'condition' keep her from the fight. She had kept her feelings under tight control. She flew the _Ghost_ for as long as she could, until her growing belly meant she couldn't reach the controls, and Zeb and Sabine forcibly grounded her when she had tried to move the seat back (she was still pissed at Chopper for telling on her). Even after she was grounded, she still went to briefings, read piles of datapads worth of reports, and organized missions. There was work to do, a war to be fought. Hera would be damned if she'd let Kanan's sacrifice be for nothing. She had to carry on in his name. That first morning on Lothal, when she had collapsed in the cave with the drawings of the loth-wolves and the ancient Jedi, had been the only time she had let herself cry.

But now, exhausted from the physical ordeal of giving birth, her carefully-crafted walls are crumbling. When the med-droid had placed the baby in her arms, the floodgates are opened, and Hera cries. She cries because the baby is perfectly healthy. Yes, there are hybrids in the galaxy, Hera's always known this, but genetics are strange and nothing was certain. After losing Kanan, Hera wasn't sure if she could have taken losing the child too, even as uncertain as everything is in wartime. His hair is green, the same shade as her skin, but other than that he looks human. He doesn't even have the small bumps on his head that would have eventually sprouted lekku as he matured. But her baby is alive and healthy and _beautiful_ , and she cries with sheer relief.

She cries because she's afraid she'd see Kanan every time she looks at him, afraid he will only remind her of everything she's lost. Afraid that he will know that he is bringing his mother pain just by existing. Most of all, afraid that he will be like his father. The Force had taken Kanan from her, taken Ezra from her. Hera took comfort in the fact that Kanan's death had meaning, and that Ezra might even be alive out there, somewhere in the unknown reaches of uncharted space. But if Ezra is alive, it was unlikely that he would ever make it home. And it would be up to him to find a way, because they were at war.

Hera cries because she has always been at war, and a part of her fears that her child will never know anything else. Ryloth had been ravaged by the Clone Wars, since before she could remember, and Hera Syndulla, daughter of the great Twi'lek freedom fighter Cham Syndulla, has always been fighting. But she couldn't go through it again with her son. A Jedi's fate was to be self-sacrificing, to place the safety of others and the will of the Force above their own well-being, and _kriff_ , did Hera hope and pray that her son did not take after Kanan in that way, that _one_ way!

She cries with relief and exhaustion and pain and fear and loss, and yes, love, overwhelming love. Because as soon the child's skin touches hers, all her doubts are gone. She had considered terminating the pregnancy. She didn't _want_ to, but they were in a war, and a lifetime of war has taught her to review every option, no matter how horrible. And the cold logic of war said that a soldier unencumbered by family responsibilities had a better chance for survival. But then, what were they fighting for, if not for _this?_

"Hera?" the gruff voice is cautious, uncharacteristic of its unusually fierce owner. She raises her eyes and through the curtain of tears obscuring them, she meets Zeb's large green eyes, overflowing with concern. A heavy, four-fingered hand falls on her shoulder. Its familiar weight is comforting, as is the gravelly voice that gravely intones, "You alright?"

Through her tears, Hera finally smiles. It's a pained smile, but honest one. Her family is not completely gone. All she can think right now is, "Thank the Force for Zeb". She couldn't have done this without him and Kallus. How strange the galaxy is, Hera mused, that her one-time enemy is now one of her dearest friends, who she couldn't imagine her life without! As if her thoughts had summoned him, the former ISB agent appears in the doorway of the Medical Center. He meets her eyes, hovering just a step inside the doorway, not entirely certain if he is welcome during this most intimate of moments. He still doubts his position here. Hera makes sure to smile as warmly as she can. Despite everything, Kallus is family now.

He sees, and seems to get the message. Relief floods over his face, and he hurries to her side, apologizing as as he does. "Sorry I wasn't here."

"It's fine." Hera reassures him. She knows why he wasn't on base. She is a general, after all. "How did the mission go?"

"No." Zeb practically snarls at her. "No mission talk. Not right now."

Hera frowns, but she doesn't miss the amused and affectionate glance that Kallus shot his lover. Hera knows that Zeb thinks she doesn't know about the two of them, that he didn't want to flaunt his happiness in front of her. Not after losing Kanan and Ezra in quick succession. And Sabine. Sabine is alive, but protecting Lothal, the planet that had been so important to Ezra. Hera still talks to her, but it's not the same as having her on the ship. It feels like she's lost her, too. She could see in Kallus' eyes that the ex-Imperial knew that she knew (he's an Intelligence officer, it's his job to know who knows what), but he played along with the ruse. Maybe Zeb just wasn't ready to tell everyone yet. Hera was certain that it wasn't because of doubts about Kallus - Zeb was his most strident defender on the base. Maybe he just wanted to have something just for himself. Hera understood. But still, time was precious, and any of them could die any day. She had taken far too long to tell Kanan she loved him. She hoped they wouldn't make the same mistake. She may have to have a talk with one or both of them about it at some point. But not today.

"He's beautiful, Hera." Kallus practically cooed over the baby, which … surprised her. She would have expected him to be more uncomfortable around children. It made her realize how little she actually knew about him, about his family. If Kallus even had family back on Coruscant. If he did, they had likely disowned him when he joined the Rebels. Or worse. Just how much had he given up to join their cause?

Kallus looks up from her son's face, and his honey-gold eyes meet hers. "May I?" he asks, voice soft and hopeful.

There was a time when Hera would have sooner shot the man then hand her child over to him. Now, she doesn't hesitate. "Of course."

The baby slides from her arms into his, and he cradles the neck just right, and yes, he has definitely had practice. This is not the first time he's held an infant. Hera wonders what the story behind that is, because she can't imagine that being part of the standard training at the Imperial Security Bureau. She hopes that it isn't a tragic tale. Despite her curiosity, she won't ask. If he ever wants to tell her, she'll listen. But she won't pry.

"Have you thought of a name yet?" He asks, his eyes still glued to her son's face. He looks like he's utterly in love. The sight causes warmth to grow in Hera's chest. She still has a family. She still has people who love her, who love her child, this piece of Kanan that managed to survive. And the Force has a wicked sense of humor that Hera did not expect. Because the man who had tried to kill her so many times, who hunted her family all across the Outer Rim, who once strapped Kanan to a table and tortured him, is now cradling his child so tenderly.

"Caleb." She answers, voice soft with the weight of memory. It feels almost as if a stronger tone would break the fragile peace of the moment.

Kallus looks up in surprise. "That's …."

He knew. Of course he knew; he spent years hunting them before his defection. Hera nods. "Kanan's birth name."

"Oh." Zeb looks surprised, and slightly put out, as if he didn't like Kallus knowing something about Kanan that he didn't. But really, what did he expect? The Empire would have had records of all the Jedi, it's not like he could keep using his birth name after Order 66.

"It's a good name." Zeb grunts after a moment. He wraps a large, furry arm around Kallus' shoulders, grinning down at the baby. "Hiya little one, I'm your Uncle Zeb, and this weird-looking little pink guy is your Uncle Kal."

Hera actually laughed as Kallus clucked his tongue in disapproval. She can't remember laughing since before Kanan died. But really, how did they think they were keeping their relationship secret? It was plain to anyone with eyes.

Hera feels suddenly lighter. She will never forget Kanan, and she knows that the grief will be an ongoing struggle. She can still feel it in her belly, heavy as a stone. But for the moment, at least, watching Zeb and Kallus play with Caleb, the grief is no longer overpowering, no longer pressing down on her shoulders with the weight of a Star Destroyer.

One chapter of her life was over. But another was just beginning. And she still had family to face it with her. _That_ was Kanan's last gift to her.

~0~0~0~

 **Author's Notes:** I don't like the name Jacen, ok? It bodes badly for Hera, considering a certain Force-user with that name in Legends and what happens to him, so I changed it ...


End file.
